Picaroons, Parades, and Tripe – The JéMBE Festival 2017 | Monte Compatri, Italy

There’s nothing like a bit of Italian driving to wake you up after nine and a half hours of travelling. I swear traffic lights are just used as road side decoration in that country. But we all survived, all 11 of us, and made it to Monte Compatri ready to start a week at the JéMBE Festival of international theatre and education…

Monte Compatri, which is just outside of Rome, is a small town built almost entirely on a hill.

Advantage: rather incredible views of Rome. Disadvantage: even walking to the ice cream shop was like a fully-fledged gym workout (which, due to the slightly alarming amount of ice cream we must have eaten, was probably a good thing.) Mountain climbing aside, the town itself was lined with cobbled streets, fountains, and yellow houses adorned with shutters, lizards, and greenery. Not a bad place to be spending a week in the sun…

The house we stayed in had two bedrooms; two and a half beds, one shower, one toilet – between ten of us. I think it’s fair to say that boundaries between our group are certainly now a thing of the past.

We were the entertainment for that first night, performing a fire show we’ve been rehearsing for weeks, in the town centre. It was surprisingly well received by the Italian public who out of no-where had a bunch of Scottish misfits spilling kerosene and blaring out bagpipe music in their quaint little square at 9.30pm on a Sunday night. We even ended up in someone’s Facebook live stream – talk about hitting the big time!

Later that night we went to see what would turn out to be one of my favourite parts of the week – a traditional Italian serenade. It felt like half the town was climbing through the narrow streets with hushed voices until we came to a stop outside a tall pale house with two balconies. The unsuspecting maiden inside was about to have her fiancé and his friends sing to her in celebration of their upcoming wedding. The singing began and the crowd fell silent. Eventually she appeared on her balcony and attempted to catch a rose thrown to her by her fiancé. That took a couple of tries and an eventual piggyback but it was all still rather lovely. Soon the crowd joined in whistling and clapping and having fun.

We finished the first day stood on the Belvedere – or ‘beautiful view’. And that it was. The square looks right out over Rome, over the thousands of shimmering lights that could have easily been mistaken for stars that had decided to take up residence on the ground.

Day two. Chased by rabid dogs. Survived. *

The morning started off calmly with croissants, coffee, and fruit juice. Then we trekked down the hill to meet everyone that would be taking part in the festival, play games, and say ciao. We had a group of 12 young people that took part in the stilt workshop we were teaching. Stilts and language barriers are a fun combination. But we didn’t kill anyone so all in all a success.

After lunch we huddled in a shady corner of the park, desperately avoiding the 30 degree heat that would turn us ghostly Scots immediately into scarlet lobsters, and started putting together a routine inspired by A Midsummer Night’s Dream to perform in the final parade at the end of the week.

* On the subject of the rabid dogs, I partially take responsibility as I feel that had I not been quite so insistent on venturing up a particular street that happened to be their home, they would have perhaps, indeed, left us alone…

The next couple of days of workshops went as planned. Hiding from any direct sunlight, picking up stilt walkers, and repeating “If we shadows have offended” in ever so slightly different tones. We took the stilt walkers a-wandering up to the town and successfully caused a scene. Later on they marched right up to the Belvedere – goodness knows how someone who learnt to walk on stilts 2 days ago manages to walk a mile up a 90 degree hill in the sweltering heat, but I think I speak for all of us when I say we were very impressed.

The day after we taught them two traditional Scottish country dances to perform at the end of the week. They all jumped into it with their best stilt forward and seemed to really enjoy themselves! This was a pleasant contrast to the expectations matching every pupil who is forced to learn them in school. Our Shakespeare routine gradually became more of a performance too and we slowly started to memorise our lines in Italian.

Halfway through the week, we performed our second show – The Blootoon Picaroons! – which is a bouncy pirate show where juggling clubs become bottles of rum, people become pirate ships, and children turn into the Kraken itself when handed water balloons…  The show went  brilliantly, despite a few technical glitches, and it felt great to saunter about in our pirate costumes feeling like we owned the place – right up until the moment where we all got thrown into the fountain and had to climb out chilly and dripping before the audience, but perhaps feeling even more like a pirate… even if it was one who had walked the plank.

We took advantage of the free night after and went in three cars to Lake Albano, a wonderful lake in the top of an extinct volcano, also acting as the view to the Pope’s summer house. As lakes go, this one was quite small which meant that it was actually warm enough to jump into. We spent the next hour splashing about and seeing who could be thrown the furthest. I practiced my doggy paddling.

On the final day of the festival, we did the parade and performances in the afternoon. The stilters did their fantastic Scottish dancing, the clowning workshop made everyone laugh, and we (supposedly the professionals) messed up a juggling routine. Then we climbed up to the Belvedere with about 200 audience members and participants where the puppet and Commedia dell’Arte workshops did their performances overlooking Rome. And then even further up we marched to the Piazza Fanti for the fire, circus, and Shakespeare routines. Everything went brilliantly – even if I did get giggled at for the pronunciation of my Italian lines – and everyone seemed to love our fire routine at the end.

So, festival over, and the next day we ventured into Rome. I’ve done the tourist parts of Rome before, but the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, and the Altare della Patria are the kind of things that are quite incredible no matter how many times you’ve seen them. This time in Rome was different to my last in that we also visited St Peter’s Chapel, which I hadn’t ever seen before. Through the security and past the scary guards who check you’re wearing enough clothes, and through the grand doors of the chapel. The exciting thing was, unlike with the Colosseum or the Trevi Fountain which is pasted all over the internet, I had no idea what to expect from the chapel. I think I spent the first ten minutes of the visit staring, mouth wide open and catching flies. It really was quite mesmerising – all the carvings and paintings and caskets. Luckily for us, there was also a service going on so the eerie sounds of the choir and organ echoed throughout the massive building and drifted around the statues. After they had finished, the priests all calmly walked past and through a door as if there was nothing to see here.

That night we had our final get together and ate dinner with everyone that had been involved in making the festival happen. First off there was a lovely pasta dish that we all wolfed down and hoped there was seconds. There was seconds. But it wasn’t pasta. Tripe. It was tripe. Blech. It was quite a change to the north east fish and chips we’re used to. But I put on a brave face and finished the whole plate. Blech.

The night went on, accordions were played, wine was drunk, songs were sung, and new friends were hugged, all in a little stone building decorated with shields, corn, and a hog’s head. It was nothing like what we would call a community centre here, but I think more so than here, it made you feel like part of a community.

In the end, I think the JéMBE Festival was a huge success and I am so grateful to have gone, taken part, performed, made friends, wondered at the views, and met people that I won’t ever forget. I also managed to eat a few more ice creams than would be recommended – but it was glorious – and I can’t wait to go back next year.

A Small Adventure

The other week, a few friends and I went camping for a night at the beach. Over the two days we were there, I realised that as exciting as the thought of jetting around the world is, no matter how far away from home you are or how long you’re away for, even the smallest of trips can become an adventure.

That weekend we built a campfire, barbecued sausages, climbed the hills, and explored the caves. As daunting as the thought of camping can be, I was surprised at how much I missed the feeling; the smoky smell of burnt wood from the campfire on your clothes, the sound of the waves rolling along the rocks, the warmth of climbing into a sleeping bag at night and being cosy despite the hard ground, constantly having grubby hands and not minding one bit. There’s a carefree air to camping that almost nothing else in the world can provide.

Once I had remembered I’d got my camera with me, I got some footage of what we got up to. I then tried to see how little is actually needed to create a ‘travel video’… (turns out, a mere 5 clips!)

As much as I love exploring and travelling, I also really value having time to recharge. For a while now I’ve been without that wanderlust feeling after my last trip into the big wide world turned out to be a little more taxing than I expected.

But something seemed to click that weekend, and now I’m once again longing for that familiar warm European breeze, and the wonder of being able to have breakfast in Scotland, lunch in the Netherlands, and dinner in France.

Luckily, I’m off to Italy in a couple of weeks! Luckily, because, I think I’m ready for another adventure…

Review: An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth by Chris Hadfield

[Contains no spoilers]

Reading this book has all over again made me want to become an astronaut when I grow up. Chris Hadfield tells an incredibly personal story of how he became an astronaut, the challenges he faced, the adventures he had, and what he learned along the way that helped him become the person he wanted to be.

I’ve seen online that some people call this a self-help book, which isn’t necessarily true. Hadfield manages to apply what he learned in his astronaut training to everyday life and in turn offers us various suggestions on how to properly carpe that diem, take criticism as a good thing, and generally not be a total arse.

What’s great is he doesn’t say “you need to do this to become a good person.” But instead offers us with “I did this and it helped me become a good astronaut, try applying it to your life if you want.” I’m personally a little sceptical about all those ‘self-help’ books that you find advertised online. A lot of them are great if you want to make big changes and are willing to get out of bed 3 hours earlier to have time for some yoga before whizzing yourself up a green smoothie and heading off to work in your running shoes. But if, like me, you’re still just working things out but wouldn’t mind a little push in the right direction, Hadfield has some great ideas that can be applied to almost every situation.

At times I found the 300 pages a little information heavy and it was hard to keep track of the timeline and different meanings of Hadfield’s various jobs as test pilot, astronaut, guitar player, and CAPCOM. And there were moments when I got a little bored of reading about all the skills and qualities needed to be good at making sure you pushed all the buttons in the Soyuz in the right order. However, Hadfield always managed to end the chapter on a high note, whether it was with a useful explanation on how to be a great group contributor (something we’d all like to be good at now and then) or by telling an exciting story of how he was stuck, blinded, on the outside of the ISS for over an hour.

I initially bought this book for the geeky space side of it, and while it does include lots of useful advice, it certainly doesn’t lack in geeky space stuff as a result. Hadfield has taught me that being an astronaut isn’t all about flying around in rockets like I thought, but there are so many different elements to it that I never imagined existed. For example: he writes about the fact they have to take Russian lessons for months on end to be able to communicate with the cosmonauts on board, about the various traditions and ceremonies that take place before and after a mission, and (hilariously) about the ways the astronauts on the ISS entertain themselves by having zero gravity races through the corridors. I suddenly realised that there was even more to being an astronaut than what meets the eye.

It was also really interesting reading Hadfield’s descriptions of their training and of life aboard the ISS. Somehow he manages to make the science easy to understand and describes their day to day life in space in a way that allows you to imagine yourself floating around, looking out at the shimmering oceans of earth through the Cupola.

Overall, this book is a brilliant read with lots of really interesting space-geek orientated stories and insights. But this also doesn’t overshadow the books central message of how to become the person you want to be by taking life into your own hands and influencing what you want to do.

You can buy An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth off Amazon here!

Lights, Camera, Action, and Me

I have been fascinated with the ‘silver screen’ ever since I was little. From the earliest age I would spend as much of my day as I could watching Disney films on VHS tapes instead of playing outside like other kids. I loved how films could transport you to a new world; I could be in the vast green jungle with Mowgli, or exploring under the deepest sea with Captain Nemo.

As I got older I was determined to become an actor. I was that annoyingly geeky kid who would always put abnormal amounts of effort into school plays, memorising everyone else’s lines as well as mine just so I could show off. But I really wanted to act in the blockbusters of Hollywood. Christmas nativity? Pah! My final goal (which seemed doable to an eight year old) was to play the next James Bond. I could see myself flying across the screen in the swanky cars, defeating the bad guys and saving the world…

I then reached high school and opted to take drama as a subject. That was when I realised something that put my dream into perspective: I was a terrible actor. Back to the drawing board!

Despite being a miniature action junkie, I still loved animated comedies. I remember being perched on the edge of the sofa watching ‘Creature Comforts’ with my parents when I was about six years old. Of course, as a six year old, I didn’t quite understand the rules of the Grand National, or really care about what people thought of the current financial situation, but I thought it was really cool how they could make the dogs and cats talk. Wallace and Gromit was another favourite. At nine years old, I got curious and wanted to know how the world worked:

“Dad, how do they make Wallace and Gromit? I mean I know they’re made from clay but how do they move them? You don’t see their hands?”

Naïve little kid that I was. That day, my dad explained to me the idea behind stop motion animation, handed me a camera and a bucket of clay, and like a fish to water, I was hooked. Poor fish.

I made my first short animated film that day and a little while later it was featured on a quiet corner of the CBBC website. My first glimpse of stardom! Or that’s what it felt like to a nine year old anyway. The year after I received a clunky, low-res video camera for Christmas, which at the time, I’m sure was the bee’s knees. It was my absolute favourite thing and went everywhere with me. By this point, I had changed my mind: never mind being an actor, I was going to be the next Steven Spielberg.

I continued making films throughout school and as a friendless nerd who had no one to do it for them, I learnt how to direct, edit, use a camera, edit audio, place lighting, and everything else you need to create a film. Despite this lone wolf approach I’ve had to filmmaking, one of the most fun projects I’ve been involved with was last year when a group of young folk from here, there, and everywhere, worked with a professional filmmaker and a professional dancer to create a short film about our relationship with the city we were in. After an intense week of learning, filming, and being rained on a lot, the team had created ‘OWN’…

One of the greatest things about being involved in making this film was that we were all invited to attend a fancy pants premiere in a proper cinema. It was incredible to see our project on a real cinema screen, and all of our names appear in the credits at the end. I had finally attended my first film premiere and it was amazing.

Now however many years since that first day behind a camera at nine years old, I still make films when I can. I’m slightly limited by time and resources – my main camera is my phone – but my head continues to swim with ideas.

And now I’m off to study Film and Television at university (more on that in a later post) and I can’t wait!

Okay, so in some ways that has felt like a slightly pointless post. The whole time I was writing it I kept thinking ‘and the really useful point I’m trying to get across here is…?’ Honestly, I’m not sure there is one. However, it has perhaps acted as an introduction to a series of potential future posts about making films. Who knows? If nothing else, now you know a little bit more about me. And I have learned to plan posts next time instead of just writing them…

365 Seconds – A Second a Day for a Year | 2016

A year and three months later, this post is finally here! Yay!

It would have been up at the beginning of 2017 but my video software broke in the Christmas holidays just as soon as I’d psyched myself up for the big edit. But now it’s done, uploaded, and waiting for views.

On the first of January 2016, after seeing a similar idea on Facebook, I decided to film one second of video footage every single day for a whole year. So I did. And boy was it harder than I thought it would be. Only filming a second worth of footage sounds like a relatively easy task, and it was. What was difficult was actually remembering to do it and finding something vaguely interesting to film. There were a few times when I would get to the end of the day, about to go to bed, and I suddenly remembered I had completely failed to film anything at all, let along anything interesting (as you will be able to see).

The other thing that was quite tricky was trying not to film things twice. I tried to make sure every shot was unique, but by the time November came around, I had mostly forgotten what I’d filmed in March, a whole 2.102e+7 seconds ago…

One of the things I enjoyed most about making this video was reviewing everything that had happened in 2016 when going through the footage. For many people, 2016 was the year of catastrophes. Meow. But going back through it, it was funny seeing all the great new things that did happen last year…

  • It snowed!
  • I went to Glasgow to see my very good friendly friend
  • I attended the British Juggling Convention
  • I finished school
  • I ate cake
  • I started learning to drive
  • I read a lot of books
  • I went to Italy!
  • I caught up with the family in England
  • I tried sushi
  • I started two new jobs
  • I attended a premiere of a film I worked on in a proper cinema
  • And I got to work with professional filmmakers
  • I went to the Circus Works festival in Edinburgh and met some awesome people
  • One of my best friends started university
  • I was involved with another massive Halloween spectacular
  • I won a bowling game
  • I travelled abroad alone for the first time
  • And I went grape picking in France and got to see some old friends
  • I swung a lot of fire about
  • I had a great Christmas with the family!

And yes, 2016 had its moments: we said goodbye to our dog and Grandad, Trump was elected, and Britain voted to leave the EU. But hey, we live and learn and ultimately came out the other side having been able to eat a lot more comfort cake than we would have done had these things not happened.

Finally, thanking you muchly to all those who appear in the video. Oscars all round. However, if anyone objects to being on screen for a second, do feel free to contact me at: littlemishaps@if-I-remove-you-it-will-spoil-it.com No cake for you…

Anyway, I’m already three months late, and all this waffling isn’t getting anyone to the video any quicker. So here we go. A year of my life in six and a half minutes. I’m not saying it’s going to be interesting, but there’s the occasional giggle worthy clip…

Hoping you enjoyed, dear chums. À bientôt!

I Ran Away with the Circus. Sort of.

It was a dark and stormy night. The lions rattled their cages, the acrobats slept a broken sleep in their rickety caravans, and the clowns drank merrily under the cover of the big top, their still painted faces flashing bright, smeared colours with each flash of lightening…

Probably. At some point. But that had nothing to do with me.

Nope, instead, my story starts six years ago with a shy, reluctant little kid grumbling about having to miss their English class to go to some weird ‘thing’ in the drama department. Rumours had been going around the first-years about these clowns teaching them to dance. Or was it acrobats teaching them to act? Or was it actors teaching them to juggle? Nobody really knew what it was, but we did know it was one of those inclusion and team building exercises that the head honchos of the school would always get the younger pupils to do. Looked good on reports I suppose: “The children enjoyed a wonderful afternoon making friends and learning to juggle, plate spin, and worked together to make human pyramids.” See, good on report. Truth is, last thing on a Friday afternoon before the summer holidays, everyone thought it was actually all pretty boring…

Well, everyone but me. I took to juggling like my dog takes to carrots (very well), and launched myself head over highwire into the crazy world of circus.

This company, ‘Modo’, that taught us at school teaches what’s known as ‘social circus’. Social circus is this fantastic idea of taking young folk who are hard to reach, disengaged, painfully shy, or just desperately looking for something fun to do, and throwing them up on stilts and having them perform to hundreds, sometimes thousands of people, in an attempt to turn their life around.

(That is a very short definition, for a slightly better explanation, check out this page here!)

And that’s exactly what it did for me. Gradually, my skills and confidence grew and I became a volunteer for Modo. I now had a purpose, and something I could finally say I was good at and could call my own. I stood a bit taller, spoke a bit louder, and smiled a whole lot more. I was now teaching folk who were just like me – shy, mainly – and I was helping them to build their skills and do what I had done.

Obviously I got a bit of stick for it at school and for a long time was known as ‘that creepy kid that juggles’. Hey, well at least I can juggle! With the confidence I’d gained from volunteering and interacting with new people on a daily basis, I was able to ignore it and not let it bother me – not something I’d have manged to do a few years before.

Since that afternoon at school, I haven’t looked back which has been one of the best things I’ve ever done. As a result I can now juggle nearly 5 balls, walk on stilts, ride a unicycle, spin plates, breathe fire, and clown around. I’ve worked with hundreds of people, from professional directors to members of the public, all of different ages, backgrounds, and abilities. I’ve been in two professional touring shows and have travelled to France, Belgium, Italy, London, and Edinburgh to take part in festivals and exchanges. I have made friends from all around the world. I’ve been on a flying trapeze, a German wheel, and a Chinese pole. I’ve watched incredible shows from all around Europe. I’ve been part of a team that puts on a huge Halloween spectacular every year to thousands of people in a small local park. I’ve performed in parades and cabarets. I’ve become more confident, learned how to interact with people no matter what language they speak, and I’ve learned to work as a team. To name a few.

All of which isn’t generally seen as the norm when you live in a little corner of Scotland. I may be ‘the creepy kid that juggles’, but if that means having done the things I’ve done and seen the things I’ve seen, I’ll take it. In many ways, I did run away with the circus. Or rather the old me did. And the me that came back is a bouncier, more experienced version.

However, after reading this, please don’t get the wrong idea: we are not all clowns, we don’t wear big red shoes, we don’t sleep in a tent, we don’t tame lions, and we can’t all do triple backflips through a ring of fire. We’re normal people, with a passion for being silly and helping anyone that needs it.

Now, I am employed by Modo and hope to continue with the circusy adventures for many years to come. Have a look at Modo’s website here to find out more about what we do, who we are, and why we do it.

 

Hoopla! And there we have it. It felt a bit odd not having anything written on here about one of the biggest parts of my life, so that’s the main reason for this post. I apologise for it all being quite ‘me’. It’s tricky for that not to happen when you’re writing about yourself. But hopefully back to neutrality next week! À bientôt!

Terrible, Terrible, Terrible…

That is what I am. Terrible. I haven’t posted anything for months! Terrible!

So everything has been a little busy. Or that’s my excuse anyway. November to Christmas was spent trying to keep my eyes open at my desk, over Christmas we had the whole city of Bethlehem come to stay, and in the New Year I was desperately trying to get a tedious application in for university!

I had been planning that my next post would be all about the video project I have been working on. However. I haven’t finished it yet. While I had time over Christmas and was all raring to go, my editing software broke. Terrible.

So then I planned to put up a post about applying to university when I had got my application in. Then I realised, hidden in plain sight – that’s my excellent attention to detail – that I had less than two weeks to submit an accompanying folio. Terrible.

After that, I thought I would put up a post about becoming a trainee adult since I had suddenly out of nowhere turned 18. But as usual, time ran away and I got completely distracted hunting for film and youth circus jobs around the world. Terrible. (But if anyone knows of anything…)

And now here we are. With a post after three months that only tells you lovely readers that I’m incapable of making good excuses.

So excuses aside. From now on, I will try my hardest to have more adventures, write more regularly, and share snippets of what I get up to on this funny little blue rock we live on.

In the meantime, here’s a chilly picture of a lighthouse…